Ani Ildani

In 1992, Ani was thirteen years old when the war began.

There had been unrest before — but never enough to leave home. When the sound of gunfire and explosions reached her, she was at the sports school her father had founded, practicing archery. At the noise she ran immediately to find her younger brother, who was training in MMA in the adjacent hall.

Their met their parents outside who already full fear were searching for them. They moved fast, toward the port. They planned to leave the region by boat.

But the massacre had already reached the port before them.

Bodies floated in the water. Motionless. The sound of screaming covered everything.

Ani would never forget this image. She had swum in that water many times. The same water where the dead now drifted. For her, this image would always be the full stop. The symbol of rupture — the crossroads between a happy childhood's dreams and an adult wound that never healed.

Their father led them toward the Svaneti pass, along the Itsi road where everyone was going. The temperature on the mountain path was lower than any of them had expected. They stopped. Their father lit a fire. He and their mother wrapped the children in everything they had. Frozen and then suddenly warm, the children fell asleep.

The next thing Ani remembers is her mother's shivering at dawn. Her mother, who now looked different — though Ani could not find the word for what she saw in her face.

In a low voice, their mother told them to go. To find somewhere warm and safe and ask for help.

They obeyed.

They embraced their parents — first their mother, then their father. Their father did not move. He did not wake. He did not hold them back.

Their mother told them he would come when the sun was fully up, and embrace them then.

On the road they had to hide. Marauders were everywhere, seizing people, stealing whatever they carried. Trembling from cold and fear, the two of them reached a Svan tower and sheltered inside.

In that moment, Ani did not think that the last embrace had been the last one. That she would never see them again. She only understood this later — weeks after — when Arthur took them back and showed them the graves.

Arthur had to explain that he knew the graves were theirs because he was the one who had buried them. He had found them by their description and committed them to the earth.

From Arthur, Ani learned that the tower had been one of the portals. That was how he had found them that day.

He came down from stairs.

Told them everything would be okay.

And took them to the oldest city.

Towards warm pink golden light.

That was how she and her brother became part of the city.

And later became its Sentries.